


Witcho Dumbass

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: Oakland's Very Own [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Relationships, Erik Killmonger Has Feelings, Erik Killmonger Lives, Erik Killmonger Redemption, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, T'Challa (Marvel) Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 20:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18724270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: Sienna would not be Sienna if she didn’t get on Erik’s last nerve. Erik would not be Erik if he didn’t make Sienna wanna choke him with his own chains. T’Challa and Okoye didn’t ask any of for this.





	Witcho Dumbass

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I was ROLLING when I saw
> 
>  
> 
> [this video](https://bartierbakarimobisson.tumblr.com/post/174322104936/me-erik-in-the-car-when-we-pick-up-tchalla-at)
> 
>  
> 
> on Tumblr, and had to write something for it. Even tho she talked shit the whole time, HalyconSeasons is the best beta ever.

Sienna would not be Sienna if she didn’t get on Erik’s last nerve. Erik would not be Erik if he didn’t make Sienna wanna choke him with his own chains.

 

It’s always something with them. If it wasn’t an issue with Erik eating leftovers that aren’t his or how Sienna leaves makeup everywhere that isn’t her vanity, it’s always something.

 

Right now, it’s the current state Sienna’s acrylic nail—the index of the right hand to be specific. If there’s one thing Sienna hates more than anything, it’s a broken nail. She’d rather go out ashy without having brushed her teeth than go anywhere in public with a broken nail. Getting them done every two weeks religiously since she was fifteen, she takes her nails very seriously. Erik, more than anyone, should know this, and yet he still insists on roughhousing the way he does.

 

“Heavy handed ass nigga,” she mutters to herself, inspecting her broken nail closely. She’s grateful that the nail bed didn’t rip, but the impact still hurt as do her feelings. Not only is the nail itself broken, but the glittery jewels attached to said nail are lost, and she paid a pretty penny to get them.

 

Well, technically Erik paid for them, but the point still stands.

 

Upon inspection, she figures her usual nail technician will charge her about twenty dollars to replace, repaint, and reattach the diamonds. She exhales heavily and continues to stare at her finger as though it will magically be fixed.

 

“Aye, babe, get dressed! T’s plane land soon!” Erik calls from the bedroom, following the sound of movement.

 

Sienna doesn’t move from her spot on the edge of the tub nor does she give him a response.

 

“Girl, I know you heard me!”

 

Sienna still doesn’t react and moments later, Erik is standing at the bathroom threshold, dressed comfortably in a blue Adidas tracksuit and slides. He looks unfazed at the sight of his girlfriend pouting down at her nail.

 

“You gon’ put some clothes on or nah?” he asks.

 

Sienna spares him a deadly glare and then looks back to her pitiful nail. “You really think I’m boutta go somewhere with my shit looking like this?” she asks, holding her finger up toward him.

 

Erik shrugs. “Ain’t nobody gon’ be pressed about your nail like that.”

 

“ _I’m_ pressed about it.”

 

“I already told you we can get it fixed later,” he reminds her, crossing his arms impatiently. “But right now, we don’t got time for this shit, so put some clothes on, do some’ with your hair, and let’s go.”

 

“I ain’t going.”

 

“ _Sienna_ ,” he groans, his arms dropping with a frustrated plop to his sides. “Are you really trippin’ off this right now?”

 

“Didn’t nobody tell you to break my nail, Erik.”

 

“It was an accident,” he insists, crossing his arms again. “Ain’t nobody doing shit like that on purpose. Last thing I need is your lil’ ass to get all in your feelings.”

 

“You ain’t even say sorry.” Sienna says more to herself, and yeah, she knows she’s overreacting, but it’s the principle.

 

“I already said I’d get the shit fixed. What more you want?” he asks but then shakes his head and waves his hands dismissively. “Actually, _nah_. Don’t answer that. Fuck around and be here all day listening to you complain.”

 

“See, that’s your problem, nigga. You don’t care about nobody but yourself.”

 

Erik just nods, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, a’ight. Get dressed, so we can go pick this nigga up from the airport. I’m not tryna hear his mouth about being late.”

 

“You must be hard of hearing ‘cus I told you I’m not going nowhere with you.”

 

“Keep playing with me.”

 

“What? You gon’ break the rest of my nails?” she flips her unit over her shoulder. “The fuck I gotta go for anyway? That’s your peoples, not mine.”

 

“Oh, suddenly, he’s _just_ _my_ peoples,” he says, nodding some more. “I recall him being the ‘best cousin ever’ when he got you that cute lil’ vibranium necklace last Christmas.”

 

Sienna sits there, silently staring at her nail.

 

Erik groans and leaves the bathroom. “A’ight, fine. Niggas don’t got time to be begging your dramatic ass for nothing.”

 

Sienna pops up, refusing to let him have the last word.

 

“I’m _not_ dramatic,” she groans. “Let me fuck around and crack something of yours, you’d be all in your feelings too.”

 

At first, it appears Erik is ignoring her as he gets his keys, wallet and phone, but after a minute, he turns to her with a bored expression.

 

“So, you coming or nah?”

 

Sienna sighs, narrowing daggers at him. She _can’t_ stand his ass.

 

She retreats back into the bathroom to sulk.

 

“Don’t complain about how you hungry either, ‘cus I’m not bringing you back nothing,” he says on his way out, making Sienna stop in her tracks and stick her head out the bathroom door.

 

He’s already downstairs, but she scurries after him. “Where y’all eating?” she asks.

 

He looks up at the balcony, annoyed but smirking. “That lil’ sushi joint near the airport.”

 

That’s Sienna’s spot, and he knows it. _Bastard_.

 

“Gimme ten minutes,” she says and heads back to their bedroom.

 

“You got five, and I’m leaving your ass!”

 

It takes Sienna approximately an hour to wash her face, brush her teeth, apply a quick beat, style her wig, and put on a pair of distressed dark wash jeans, a cropped white graphic tee, and thigh highs. As good as she knows she looks, she can’t help glaring at her nail the whole way to the airport. The nail along with Erik driving like he has no sense are starting to annoy her to the point of saying “fuck it” to the sushi and just going back home.

 

“Nigga, this isn’t _Fast & Furious _,” she sneers, never once looking up from her damaged nail. “You driving like you left your phone at your side bitch house.”

 

Erik huffs. “I wouldn’t have to drive like this to be on time if I wasn’t dealing with your ass thinking this shit a fashion show.”

 

“I wouldn’t have taken so long if I didn’t have to make up for my broken-ass nail.”

 

“I told you get ready but you wanted to sit around and argue with a nigga about a fucking nail.”

 

“A fucking nail your rough, uncivilised ass broke doing the most tossing bitches,” she reminds him, pointing at the side of his head for emphasis. “I told you about being rough with me and of course, you don’t listen.”

 

“I know you not tryna make yourself out to be some lil’ delicate daisy. You be just as rough,” he retaliates, swerving in and out of traffic like second nature.

 

Sienna isn’t small by any means—she’s five-seven and a half, stacked with muscles, and jiggles just about everywhere down to her pudgy stomach and cellulite ridden thighs. She can take Erik’s play fighting, but sometimes the nigga forgets he’s wrestling his girlfriend and not trying to overthrow the Wakandan empire, resulting in him throwing her around so hard that _her nail just fucking breaks._

 

The more she looks at the nail, the angrier she gets. For a split second, she peers up at Erik who hasn’t taken his eyes off the road once.

 

“One of these days, I’m getting me a white boy who just listens to my feelings and doesn’t patronize me,” she mutters, resting her head on her knuckles as she continues to stare him down.

 

“Yeah, and when Larry snap yo neck for overcooking a green bean casserole, I’ll be here waiting for you.”

 

The car is tense and silent when they pull up to the airport and Erik texts his cousin that they’ve arrived. The two of them are fuming for different reasons, and the longer they sit there in the pick-up zone, the more awkward it gets. Sienna has about a million questions—the main being why T’Challa took a commercial flight to the States instead of a jet and how long he’s staying—but she’s too stuck on being mad about her nail and Erik’s attitude to ask.

 

They’re only sitting there for all of two minutes before T’Challa exits the airport, one carry-on bag slung over his shoulder and Okoye at his side.

 

“N’Jadaka!” T’Challa exclaims cheerfully, sliding into the backseat with Okoye following. “Sienna. How are the two of you?”

 

Erik scoffs and looks at the two of them through the rear view mirror. “Wassup, cuz? My bad on being late. Sienna dumbass was holding shit up.”

 

Sienna’s eyes widen beneath her sunglasses.

 

“That’s alr—” T’Challa starts, but is abruptly cut off.

 

“ _Dumbass_?” she repeats incredulously, removing her sunglasses and turning in her seat to face him. “Yo, who you calling a dumbass?”

 

Erik side eyes her. “Ain’t nobody say none’ to you. This shit between T and E, so S your way out of it, lil’ girl.”

 

“Nah, but I’m here so Imma ask again: who you calling a dumbass, nigga?” she exclaims, fingers already in his face.

 

He turns in his seat now too, gold cap fangs gleaming as he yells right back at her. “Yo, I don’t know who you thought you was talking to but it’s not me!”

 

Okoye clears her throat. “I don’t think it’s that deep—“ she tries, but her words go muffled under the constant yelling in the front seat.

 

“I’m clearly talking to you! How you got them big ass ears and don’t hear me talking to you!? You prolly heard the sun come up with them shits!”

 

“Ain’t no way you talking to me, and you definitely don’t want me to start going in on you. Lemme mention your crooked big toe and then you wanna call yourself crying! You know I’m talking to _you_ ‘cus _you_ the only dumbass in this bitch!”

 

T’Challa and Okoye follow the two of them like a tennis match, genuinely fascinated at how quickly things go from zero to a thousand with them.

 

“My big toe may be crooked, but at least I’m not walking around this bitch with them raggedy ass dreads! You wanna be Coolio so bad witcho dumbass, _dumbass_!” Sienna claps back, fingernail an inch away from poking his forehead.

 

The noise Erik makes can best be described as a scream mixed with a growl, and he truly looks like the Holy Ghost has come over him when he begins waving his hands frustratedly towards the sky. “Getcho dumbass finger out my face before I break the rest of your nails. On crip and Nipsey Hussle whole soul—“

 

Sienna leans forward to be all the way in his space, neck twirling and twisting with each word. “Nigga, you think somebody scared of your dumbass ‘cus you Killmonger? Killmonger, my black ass! Shoulda called yo ass _Nut Fast as Fuck When My Girl Get on Top_ -monger!”

 

“For Bast sake,” T’Challa whispers, shaking his head and looking off to the side while Okoye’s eyes never divert from the entertainment before her.

 

Erik gets to clapping his hands like a female, eyes wide and firey. “There go ya dumbass bringing up some personal shit for no reason ‘cus you in your feelings over some dumbass shit!”

 

“Oh, what? I know you not embarrassed, cus your dumbass stay showing out for your lil’ dumbass friends! Always doing the fucking most—“

 

“ _Who_ dumbass friends?!”

 

Sienna shamelessly points right at T’Challa, never breaking eye contact with his enraged cousin. “That dumbass nigga there in the backseat and the one behind the wheel! Fuck you thought?!”

 

T’Challa points to himself and checks the additional space behind the seats into the trunk. Okoye, too stunned to even react as the general of the Dora Milaje should, hides a snicker behind her hand.

 

“Oh, _I’m_ the dumbass?” Erik exclaims. “ _I’m the dumbass?!”_

 

“Yes, nigga, _you_ the dumbass donkey of the day, ol’ Dollar Store Michael B. Jordan looking ass nigga—“

 

“Aye yo, hold up! Hold on! Hold _the fuck_ on—!”

 

“Hold on, _what_ , nigga _what_ ?” Sienna shoots Okoye a look. “O, did I lie? Do this nigga or do this nigga not look like somebody fake-ass Wallace from _The Wire_?”

 

“Nah, _fuck that!_ ” Erik looks at his cousin, pointing of his stubby little sausage fingers right in Sienna’s face. “T, is she or is she not built like whole ass Goofy? Ol’ _hyuck_ looking ass girl!”

 

“ _Goofy_?!” Sienna shrieks, leaning away from him to have room to start thrashing her hands around dramatically. “Nigga, I’m boutta take my wig off and show you who a goofy bitch!”

 

Having heard enough, T’Challa and Okoye share a scared look and slowly, so not to startle the screaming couple, reach for the door handles.

 

“We are just going to get an Uber,” T’Challa says but it goes unheard.

 

“I’m boutta put my hands on you and _that’s on everything_!”

 

“Do it, nigga! No one in this bitch scared of you putting your sausage links on nobody!”

 

T’Challa and Okoye exit the vehicle, still peering in through the windows like spectators at the zoo. Even on the outside, Erik and Sienna manage to be the loudest people in the pick-up zone. Bags in hand without much to do, T’Challa and Okoye share another look after checking in the vehicle to see that they’re still going at it.

 

“You brought me all the way from Wakanda for _this_?” she asks, shaking her head.

 

T’Challa makes a tsk’ing sound with his teeth. “How was I to know they were going to do this?”

 

“Because they do it _every time_ we come.”

 

“It is just how they are. I suppose it is their love language.”

 

“ _Love_ ,” Okoye scoffs. “ _Yhe kulungile_. They barely sound like they like each other, let alone love.”

 

A fond smile graces T’Challa’s features. “Ah, you know Americans and their weird ways,” he says. “I think she is good for him. He needs somebody who is not afraid to tell him how it is, and as you can hear—” He pauses, letting Erik and Sienna’s bickering fill the silence as though to say _I rest my case._

 

Okoye, unconvinced, rolls her large eyes. “I do not know how you don’t fear for that girl. Do you remember when we came last year and he threatened to send her to the ancestral plane?”

 

“If I remember correctly, she said that she would, um...” His lips twitch into a huge smile. “She would make him her stepson once she got there.”

 

Okoye can’t help but to laugh at that.

 

“I know N’Jadaka is rough around the edges, but the last thing he needs is someone pacifying him. She’s good for him. She’s a strong girl. He needs that, as well as someone to soften him up. I know he seems rough with her, but I know for a fact that no harm will come to her.”

 

Back inside the car, Erik and Sienna are still going at it, neither of them letting up on whatever points they were trying to make in the midst of their screaming.

 

Sienna’s going on and on, starting to sound like a Charlie Brown adult to Erik’s ears when he finally notices the empty backseat.

 

“Aye,” he interupts, holding up a finger.

 

“Don’t put your finger up at me! You gon’ listen to what I gotta—”

 

“Where them niggas go?”

 

Sienna shuts her mouth and looks behind her. “What the fuck?”

 

“They say where they was going?”

 

She thinks about it. “I don’t think so,” she says with a pout and faces forward. “That was kinda rude.”

 

The two of them sit in silence just as before, but the it’s not as tense as before. Sienna’s jaw hurts from nagging while Erik’s throat is sore from yelling. They’ve overextended themselves to the point of being passed tired and would just like to go home.

 

Swallowing his pride, Erik turns to look at her. “Hey,” he says. “You mad at me?”

 

Sienna sits there a moment, arms crossed before shrugging. She can’t tell anymore if she is or not. She just knows her nail is broken and she’s hungry.

 

He smirks, twirling a finger around a loose wave of hair on her shoulder. “You mad at me,” he says more as a statement this time, leaning over the center console.

 

Sienna looks over at him looking goofy as ever, dimples deepening in his smile. Her heart thumps loudly in her.

 

“My baby mad at me?” he asks again, pecking his thick lips in sultry line of kisses on her neck and up to her ear.

 

She tries her hardest to fight the smile growing on her face as he begins whispering low and husky into her ear.

 

“Princess mad at Daddy, huh?”

 

“Boy, _stop_ ,” she tries to sound tough but it comes out as giggle. That nickname gets her every time. “Witcho creep ass. Fuck up off me.”

 

“Aye, look, I don’t like you being mad at me,” he says, pulling away from her neck to meet her eyes. “You mad at me?”

 

Sienna shrugs again. “My _fucking_ nail, E.”

 

He exhales heavily. “We gon’ get it fixed.”

 

“Yeah, but you ain’t even apologize.”

 

“Is that what you waiting on?”

 

With her baby doll eyes in full effect, Sienna pouts at him with her bottom lip jutted out and her nose scrunched up. He cracks under her gaze. How is he so weak for this girl?

 

“A’ight, fine. I’m sorry for breaking your nail.”

 

Without a second thought, she cups his face, squeezes his jaw to begin pecking his lips in quick succession. He rolls his eyes and playfully bites out at her, catching her lips in an intimate kiss.

 

“You’re forgiven,” she whispers lowly against his now glossy lips, scratching his beard with the jagged edge of her acrylic nail. “But next time you threaten to put your hands on me, I _promise_ I’ll knock the shit out you. Understood?”

 

Something ignites in Erik whenever she talks like this.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods and dives back in for another round of juicy kisses.


End file.
